


Adventures in Tokyo-Land

by Covenmouse



Category: Sailor Moon - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, semi-au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-08-12
Updated: 2010-08-14
Packaged: 2017-10-11 01:49:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/106987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Covenmouse/pseuds/Covenmouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When ten-year-old Alec Law and his kid brother, Daz, were told that they were finally to meet their estranged grandfather, the last thing they expected was to be left with him in a country whose ways are far unlike anything they experienced at home.  Though Daz is quick to adjust, Alec finds himself torn over one question:  why would his mother leave her children with a man that seems to hate?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Charlie Chaplain 2](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Charlie+Chaplain+2).



> This was written as a gift fic for my friend, Charlie-or CC2. As she requested, characters involved are the children of Rei Hino and Jadeite-so, mostly OCs from here on in, with the exception of "Ojiisan" or Takashi Hino, Rei's father. As always, I've developed a mixture of Manga and Anime canon for this, and am completely ignoring STARS-otherwise, you can assume that all canon events (at least, a version of them) are true.
> 
> I, with the help of several wonderful Betas, did my best present both British and Japanese cultures as accurately as I could, but if you find anything glaringly wrong, please feel free to inform me.

The Hino residence in chiyoda-ku wasn't far from the Imperial Palace. Just across from Chidorigafuchi Kōen, according to their mother, who pointed out the cherry trees from the twilight-tinted safety of the Rolls Royce's backseat. Their driver, a stiff man wearing a funny hat, said nothing as Alec pressed his fingers and nose to the glass.

"I wanna see," Daz whined and tugged at the bottom of Alec's shirt. Though the younger of the two by far, Daz had a temper which Alec was very well aware of. Any other day, he'd have been pushed out of the way, bitten or clawed at. Alec turned to look at his sunny-haired brother and frowned at the way the three-year-old was chewing on his lips and clutching Baxter--the ragged teddy bear they'd both loved a little too much.

He felt, more than saw, their mother's eyes upon them from her side of the bench seat. "Come on," Alec muttered and sat back so that Daz could climb onto his lap and peer out the window. Alec locked his arms about Daz's middle and tossed his head to try and get his fringe out of his eyes.

Rei leaned over to brush the offending curl behind his ear and he ducked his chin as he smiled at her. "Are you certain we can't—" she began to ask.

"I don't want to cut it." Alec tapped the back of the empty passenger seat with the toe of his shoe. The driver glanced back at them and he stopped.

"Alright," the woman nodded and turned back to her window as the car made a left across the main boulevard. Tall walls to either side of the street blocked the view of what was, he judged by the rooftops peeking over the barriers, a rather wealthy neighborhood. It was like that in Britain, too—the taller the walls, the more money the owner had. As if they didn't want people to see it.

" Mum," he ventured as the car turned down another empty, wall-lined street, "Why do we have to stay with him?"

"You need to know your grandfather."

The reply was the same every time he asked and Alec groaned. "But you never talk about him," he complained and fidgited in the seat. "Not like Mammy and Pappy. Or Sofu."

Alec watched as Rei tapped one finger upon her knee; it was the same gesture as when he received a low mark on his coursework, or after a fight with their father. When they'd passed another red, triangular "stop" sign, she breathed out a sigh and flattened her hand against her leg.

"I have no relationship with him, this is true," Rei said and turned from the window to meet his eyes, "But this does not mean that you two should not be given the opportunity. Japan is a part of you, as it is a part of me... this includes your grandfather. And he wants time with his grandchildren."

"But what do we call him?" Alec asked with a frown.

Their mother's lips pursed as she thought. "'Sofu' is technically correct."

"We already got a Sofu," Daz protested from around a mouthful of mohair.

"You could use Ojiisan," Rei continued. "I should have taught you something different for Sofu."

"Why?" Alec shoved the bear back into Daz's mouth to keep the boy from whining out another question. Daz gurgled something and slapped his hand, but he bit down on Baxter's ear and didn't try to interrupt again.

"'Sofu' means 'grandfather,'" Rei leaned closer to the window as the car stopped in front of a gated driveway. "He's my Sofu, he's your Sousofu. Your great-grandfather."

Their driver's window rolled down so that he could chatter at an intercom mounted into the brick wall. Whatever was said was short, and a moment later the gate swung wide to emit them. "Yes. Ojiisan." Rei gave a short nod. "Call him that."

"Yes, Mum," Alec replied and turned to look at the gardens as they rolled past.

Unlike their Mammy and Pappy's estate, which sprawled fence-less on the moors, every inch between house and wall of the Hino residence was covered in lush gardens. A large, green-watered stream wound its way through the yard and under the house, which Daz exclaimed over in half-intelligible squeaks. The toddler wriggled over the seat as Rei opened her door and gestured for the boys to follow her before the driver could offer any assistance—a fact which, Alec noted, seemed to puzzle the man.

Once out of the car, Alec was surprised to find that even the driveway was decorated. It had been paved in grey and blue-tinted cobble stone that flowed into a path that lead through the gardens to the front door, complete with a bridge over the stream. Rei moved toward the door, and Daz clung to Alec's hand as they travelled in her wake.

Near the top of the bridge, Daz came to a sudden halt and pointed with Baxter at three huge, glittering gold, black and white bodies just below the surface of the water. "Fish," he gasped.

"Those are koi," Rei said from the other side of the bridge where she had stopped to wait for them. "They are very old, and very expensive. You are not to play with them. Alec, do you hear me?"

"Yes, Mum." Alec nodded and pulled Daz the rest of the way over the bridge. Daz whined for the fish, and Alec gripped his hand a little harder to keep the boy from running back.

The path wound around brilliant green bushes and precisely placed rock gardens until it reached a large front porch with three steps up to it. Their mother went to the door and rang a bell set into the dark wooden frame. After helping Daz up the steps, Alec stopped and turned to look back at the garden.

From the airport to the gate, Tokyo had seemed like every other city their family had ever visited. It reminded him of the Christmas they'd spent in New York, of the brick-oven taste of Chicago pizza pie, the tang of salt in Hawaiian air, the chill of a Quebec spring; he'd never been anywhere that he felt out of place. Even though the signs here were written in squiggles instead of words, even though the people spoke like sparrows twittering at one another, it hadn't been weird.

But within the walls of the Hino compound everything felt... Japanese. It wasn't an easy feeling to have, or to describe, and the alien taint of it made his skin crawl. Looking up at his mother, Alec wondered when her hair had become so straight and black, when her eyes had taken on a slant, when her words had become strange to his ears.

The door opened to reveal a grey-haired man in a business suit who bowed when he saw them. In another moment, Daz had pulled himself from Alec's grip and cried "Ojiisan!" as he wrapped himself around the man's leg.

"Daz," Rei snapped and bent to pry him away from the red-faced man. Her voice softened the instant she gathered him into her arms. "No, Daz, that isn't your Ojiisan."

"Raw-san," the man said and cleared his throat. He stepped aside and bowed again. With a hand on Alec's shoulder to guide him, Rei swept through the door without another word. On the other side of him was a small alcove where they deposited their shoes.

"Who's he?" Daz asked as he peered over her shoulder.

"The butler," their mother replied as she stepped barefoot toward a flight of stairs to say something in sparrow-talk to the man. Whatever he said in reply must have made sense to her, because she lead the boys through a doorway and down a hall.

For such a large house, the inside was very cramped, Alec thought. It was filled with delicate tables and expensive-looking porcelain things, and rugs like the ones his Mammy wouldn't let him walk over when he was carrying something to drink. Some of the walls were paneled with the same dark wood the door had been made of, and others were so thin he thought they might be made of paper.

"What does raw-san mean?" Alec asked softly.

His mother shook her head. "Law, Alec. The 'L' can be difficult to pronounce for some people."

"No it isn't." He frowned. "It's an 'L'."

"Alec," Rei sighed. She seemed to want to say more, but they had stopped in front of a door and it was opening.

The man on the other side of it was bald and his head shone in the light from a large open door at the back of the room. His shoulders alone filled the frame of the door, set into a suit which reminded Alec of the kind his father wore to court, and he towered over Rei with a scowl the match of any she could produce. "Reichan," he said and tilted forward a sketch of a bow.

"Tadaima," she replied, expressionless.

Where other Japanese sounded like sparrows, Alec found that when Ojiisan spoke it was more like a barking dog. His words were gruff, clipped—growled, almost—as he and Rei faced off over a low table and tea. Daz was curled up asleep on one of the cushions beside their mother, and Alec sat cross legged, looking out the open back door. Unsurprisingly for this house, it lead to another porch and a square garden surrounded on all sides by more rooms and a low-slung porch.

The stream reappeared from under the house not too far from the door, and fell into a pond beside a heavy-blossomed cherry tree. It swayed in the breeze and a few pink petals drifted toward them.

"Arek."

He jumped and turned to find both the adults staring at him. Alec's back straightened the way that it did when his grandmother gave him the look which said his posture had slackened. "Yes sir?"

Ojiisan gestured toward the garden. "My garden, you rike?"

Alec glanced at his mother, who sipped her tea with no offer of help, and then nodded. "It's big," he said and brushed his hair out of his eyes yet again.

"It very ord." Ojiisan punctuated the fact with a sip of tea. "Hotokesama wa..."

"Our ancestors," Rei supplied.

"Our ancestors," Ojiisan picked up, "plant this garden... many year ago. It hold much memory for me. For you mother, as also."

Rei snorted.

"Is that where the fish came from?"

Ojiisan tapped his tea cup with one finger. After a few moments, he nodded, "They called... you are know this word?"

"Koi," Alex supplied.

The man's eyes cut toward Rei, who rolled hers. When he looked back at his grandson, Ojiisan's frown deepened just a hint. "No," he shook his head, "Koi is being..."

One of the man's hands waved loosely as he searched for the word, "By person is not being belong."

Alec's brows creased together as he considered that. "You mean... they're wild?"

"Ah, yes," Ojiisan nodded as he said, "Wyird. Very good. This fish is being nishikigoi."

"Oh..." Alec looked back at the pond. He was sitting too far away to see the fish, but he could imagine them—bright and huge. They must be very well fed, he thought, to be so big. One of them looked to be the same size as Daz.

Rei said something, but the language she spoke told him that she didn't mean it for his ears. He looked back and noticed for the first time the rigidness of his mother's back, and the way that she clutched her teacup. Her eyes blazed beneath the veil of her dark lashes, and the tightness at the corners of her of her mouth betrayed her.

Ojiisan was no better. His attention was once more on his daughter and all air of civility was but a thin mask. They were fighting, Alec realized with a shock; they'd been fighting since the three of them had walked through that door. A knot like lead worked its way into his stomach and he stared at his forgotten cup of tea.

When her cup was empty, Rei allowed a nearby maid to take it away. She glanced at Daz and bit her lip. The boy was still sleeping, clutching Baxter. Alec watched from the doorway as his mother ran her fingers through Daz's bright curls, then bent to kiss his temple.

She rose from her kneel with silent grace and gestured for Alec to follow her out of the den and back to the hallway. Her hand fell upon his shoulder as they walked to the door and the knot in Alec's stomach rolled. He tugged at the ends of his shirt, "I don't... do we have to?"

"I know it's hard, Alec," Rei replied, "But you'll be fine. I'll be back for you and Daz in a few weeks."

"Okay," he muttered.

At the door, Rei turned him toward her and knelt in front of him. Her pale hands cupped his head and she caressed one thumb across his cheek. The ghost of a smile painted itself across her lips and she leaned in to leave a kiss upon his brow.

"Mum," Alec asked before she rose, "Why can't Ojiisan say my name? Sofu doesn't have any trouble."

Rei pursed her lips and wound one of his curls around her finger, "Sofu's had ten years of practice, Alec. Give him time. He's... trying." Her face tightened at the last word, and at that she stood up.

"I have to go," she stated, and moved to retrieve her shoes. A moment later she was gone. Alec stared at the door until he felt eyes upon the back of his head. He turned to meet Daz's gaze over the head of the chewed upon teddy bear.

The Hino residence was big enough to get lost in, they found, and a lot of its rooms were divided by paper. In his broken English, Ojiisan explained to an inquiring Daz that that made it easier to redefine. Any area could be a living space, or a bedroom, or a tea room... and if you wanted to change the size of a room, you could do that too.

It had all been built by someone named "Meji"—or something like that, Alec gathered—and he had been the one who had incorporated a few hard-wood walls into the design. "Amerika," their grandfather huffed and shook his head. Still, he showed the house with a sense of pride that Alec found palatable.

At the end of the tour, the boys found themselves in a small room with mat flooring where their luggage had been placed near a window. There was nothing in the room otherwise, but Ojiisan seemed happy to show it to them. Daz whined softly and fiddled with his bear.

Ojiisan frowned, looking down at the toddler. Alec caught Daz and pulled him into his arms before the boy could launch into a fit. "He's tired," he explained as he found a comfortable place for Daz's weight. "He slept on the plane, but it was a long flight..."

Alec glanced out the window. It was still bright morning outside and he rubbed one eye. Now that the excitement had worn off, he wasn't feeling very well himself. Ojiisan rubbed his neck, watching the two of his grandsons, then he went to one of the panels and pushed it aside to reveal a hidden closet. The revelation got Daz to stop whining as he peered at what had to be the world's best hide-and-go-seek spot.

From within the closet, Ojiisan pulled a big futon, like the one that their mother had in her work room. Unlike that one, which had a frame high enough for it to be sat on, Ojiisan laid the mattress on the floor and got some covers from inside the closet. A pointed look from the man was all it took for Alec to set Daz upon the floor and go to help spread the blankets out.

"This sreep room," Ojiisan explained, "for share."

He deposited two thin pillows onto the mattress and closed the curtains over the windows. "I wirr send a maid to wake for dinner."

With that, Ojiisan left the room and slid the wall shut behind him. Daz crawled into the bed with another whine and put his face into the pillow. Alec laid himself upon the other side of it, and drifted into sleep to the sound of his brother breathing.

By "maid" Ojiisan had meant "Nanny," Alec found when the woman woke them that afternoon. She looked to be their mom's age, he thought, but she wasn't as pretty. There was something ferret-like about her face, and her gaze was always pointed toward the floor. But unlike Ojiisan, she spoke perfect English and introduced herself as Takashi Sora, "but you may call me Sorachan, if you like."

Daz, now napped, thought that this was good idea and did so; Alec was not so sure.

Sorachan gave them apple slices when Daz asked for a snack, and then she took them to a room off the garden that was much like their bedroom in its simplicity. She sat Daz with her at a table and showed him several games that were covered in those strange squiggle-marks meant to be writing.

Alec stood at the door to the garden and frowned as he watched Daz play the game with the nanny. It had to do with cards, like Old Maid, and she explained the squiggles on each as they went.

"Where is Ojiisan?" He asked.

"Your grandfather has business to do," Sorachan explained with a smile as Daz matched two of the squiggles. "Very good, Dazkun! The senator is a busy man, Aleckun, but you will see him at dinner tonight."

"Oh." Alec chewed his lip. "Can I go play in the garden?"

Sorachan smiled, but her eyes frowned as she looked at the garden. "Are you sure you won't play cards with us, Aleckun?"

Alec shook his head. Her smile grew wider as the eye-frown deepened, but she nodded. "Alright. Do be careful."

Though careful to keep in sight of the open door, Alec stepped out onto the broad porch. Sunset was turning the sky colours and somewhere in the city beyond a siren wailed. There was a dirt path near where he stood, but Alec stepped off the porch and into the soft green grass instead.

Laughter from inside made him pause. It was only Daz, he realized, getting another match right. Alec swallowed a sigh and marched himself to the pool's edge.

This time of day, the water was brown and dim. He could see the bottom, but only in hazy shapes of rocks distorted by surface ripples and reflections of flowers. Above that, a hazy mockery of his face stared up at him; his halo of curls a black spot against the melting orange sky. Without looking up, he could see a sliver of moon hung alone in the murky blue.

A splash further in the water made him look up, just in time to see a golden body plunge back into the darkness. Apparently it was deeper than it looked. As he leaned a little closer, a call from behind him got his attention and he looked up to see Sorachan waving him back in.

The bathhouse attached to the main house was strange. After soaping themselves up and rinsing themselves off, they were allowed to soak together in a tub deep enough to come to Alec's chin. He blushed with more than just the heat of the water as he kept Daz from coming to harm in the water; the toddler seemed oblivious to danger of drowning. They hadn't taken a bath together in years... but, with their mother gone, who was going to help Daz? his mind questioned him. Without an answer for that, Alec kept his mouth shut.

Dinner was to be taken in a room that was eerily reminiscent of their British grandparent's, just on a slighter scale. Alec stood in the doorway, fingering the tail of his good dress shirt, and stared at the dark wood, polished dining set. The china plates had been laid out, and covered dishes had been set along the middle of the table. Unlike every other table he'd seen in this house thus far, this one was of a proper height and featured real chairs. If he overlooked the bamboo mat flooring and the paper walls, the decorations even made it feel like home.

...only not.

Swallowing hard against a roll of his stomach, Alec shook his head and ventured toward the front door. A knock resounded against it as he approached and, without heed to the butler nearby, strode forward to open it. "Hello?" he ventured, and then grinned when he saw who it was. "Mr. Warren!"

"Hello Alec," the Ambassador grinned and gave him a brief bow. He let his attention shift to someone standing behind the boy, and Alec turned to see the butler looking disgruntled. Alec stepped aside as Ambassador Warren greeted the other man in sparrow-talk, as did the elegant woman draped upon his arm, and the butler bowed to them both.

They stepped inside, depositing their shoes beside the door without a second's hesitation, and then ventured further into the hall. "Your grandfather didn't mention you'd be here, Alec." Warren observed, "But it is a pleasure, as always. Have you met my wife, Harva?"

Alec smiled shyly up at Harva Warren, a willowy beauty with golden locks and brilliant blue eyes, and did his best impression of a Japanese bow. Her kind laughter lit his cheeks, and she dipped her head in response. "A pleasure. Your father is Jude Law, correct?"

"The lawyer." Alec nodded and brushed his hair from his eyes.

"A fine young man," Harva confirmed with a smile at her husband, "David was just saying so. I did not realize that your mother and the Senator were related."

"It's a small world," Warren chuckled. His eyes flickered to the doorway as steps behind them heralded his grandfather's entrance. The large Japanese man seemed as impassive as stone work, like a statue of an ancient warrior. Senator Hino gave a stiff, practiced bow, which Warren and Harva reciprocated. Afterward came a shake of hands, and more sparrow-tongue.

Alec frowned as he noted that Ojiisan's words didn't sound as harsh with the Ambassador as they had that morning with his mother. As they were about to retire to the dining room, a bundle of blond came dashing down the hall from the room where Sorachan had been keeping him. She twittered something urgent from behind, but Daz ran headlong into the Ambassador's legs.

Harva stepped aside with startled gasp, and then began to laugh as her husband backed up a few steps. He didn't fall, and Daz wrapped his arms about the man's leg to keep from falling, himself.

"Daz," Alec groaned and moved to yank the boy free, when the Ambassador waved him off.

"Quite the tackle there. Have you thought about rugby?" Warren chuckled as he helped Daz to stand upright. Ever the social nitwit, the toddler was grinning from ear to ear and very proud of himself. He didn't seem to catch Ojiisan's frown or the raise of eyebrows, much as he hadn't caught the discomfort of the butler.

Daz giggled and pointed into Warren's face. "I know you!"

"Yes, Sir Daz, I do believe we've met." Warren teased with a grin. He took the boy's finger gently and shook it as though it were a handshake. Daz seemed inclined to go along with this. "You were smaller then. I'm surprised you remember."

"You have funny ears," the toddler assured him. "And my dad said you were worth putting up with. What does that mean?"

"Well," the Ambassador paused as he considered that. "I think that it means we may be friends."

"Oh," Daz frowned. A moment later he'd forgotten the conversation entirely and turned to tug on his grandfather's jacket. "When's dinner?" Though her face betrayed nothing, Alec thought he noticed Sorachan tremble in the hall doorway.

With a hesitant hand, Ojiisan touched Daz's hair and his dark eyes rose from the boy's cheerful face. Alec had no idea what he said, but it seemed to please the Warrens, and the party moved into the dining room.

His place was across from Harva, and he helped Daz to climb into his "big-boy" chair. This thrilled the toddler, who wasn't used to sitting with the adults on formal occasions, and Alec sent a silent prayer to God that he wouldn't have one of his fits. No matter that Warren and his wife might have heard of the youngest Law's legendary temper tantrums, Alec had the distinct feeling that Ojiisan had not.

Near the back of the room, Sorachan stood in silent attendance with the butler as a maid helped them to pass around the dishes and filled their drinks. The conversation was in Sparrow, which was mildly annoying to Alec, but as most of these dinners had more to do with business and boring gossip than anything he cared to hear about, he didn't protest it.

Instead, he poked with his fork at what appeared to be a cluster of tentacles upon his plate. Turning over the pink, gelatinous mass, he was queasy to find that his first impression was correct. The suckers wiggled strangely when he poked the octopus leg, and he swallowed acid.

Beside him, Daz slurped down three of the noodle-like appendages, being sure to make as much noise as possible while doing so. This earned him a side-ways glance from Ojiisan and an amused smile from Harva. The woman raised an eyebrow at Alec, her blue gaze flickering between his plate and face. "It's hard at first," she said quietly as she cut a section of her own tentacle off the main portion. "I suggest closing your eyes. But the taste is good, once you get used to it."

Alec wasn't at all sure about that.

He stared down at his plate and tried not to imagine the writhing creatures featured on the documentaries his tutor made him watch. Turning it over again so that he couldn't see the suckers still attached, he cut off a portion like Harva had, and speared it with a fork. Eyes squinched shut, Alec shoved the mess into his mouth and forced himself to chew.

It was like trying to chew a rubber ball. He swallowed because he had to and sat still, waiting for his stomach to rebel. When it, by some miracle, did not, he opened his eyes again to find everyone staring at him. Cheeks burning, he dropped his eyes to his plate.

"You want that?" Daz chirped into the silence. After a barely perceptible shake of his head, the toddler reached forward with bare hands to grab the tentacles and shove them into his own mouth.

Ojiisan made a noise rather akin to a snort, and Alec looked up to see the old man staring at Daz with a clear expression of revulsion. Though he didn't blame him one bit, Alec felt himself frown in return and grabbed a napkin to dab the mess off of Daz's face like their mother would have done. The toddler wriggled his nose and tried to duck away. He'd had practice at this, though, and soon Daz was cleaned up whether he liked it or not.

A moment later, the maid came around again to take their plates and replaced it with a much more normal meal of hamburger steak and rice. Though the two didn't seem to go together by Alec's way of thinking, he decided it wasn't worth mentioning. Both of these foods, after all, were at least edible.

He'd just reached for his brother's knife and fork when Sorachan leaned into his vision. Slapping one hand over the instruments he looked up into her startled face. "I can do it," he said as politely as he could manage and then picked up the utensils to cut his brother's steak. The toddler fidgeted and whined that he could do it himself, though they both knew their mother would have never allowed it, so Alec ignored the protests.

Sorachan continued to hover until Ojiisan shook his head at her. Her frown tightened, and she retired back to her place beside the butler. "So Alec," Warren said as though nothing had happened, "How are your parents? I haven't had the chance to see them since Christmas."

Alec dropped Daz's knife a little too hard and muttered an apology. He took it away again when Daz reached for it, handing the boy the fork instead. Daz's bottom lip threatened a pout, but the toddler speared some hamburger and stuffed it in his mouth rather than put up a fuss. With a breath of relief, Alec returned to his own meal.

"They're fine," he murmured and began to cut up his own food. He glanced up at the Warrens's expectant pause and ran his teeth across his bottom lip. "My mother's visiting some old friends."

"Ah," Warren nodded as if he understood and said something in Sparrow. Ojiisan growled a reply, once again the dog, and Alec was certain he heard his mother's name dropped into the conversation. He bristled around a bite of steak.

"Perhaps your mother is staying in the area?" Harva asked while the men's attention had turned. She smiled politely at Alec's look, "I have been wanting to meet her. It's amazing, all this time that David and your father have been friends, I hadn't had the chance to meet Rei. I've heard many good things about her charity work in Britain."

"Oh," he nodded slightly and pushed his bangs back again. "Yeah. Mum does work with the church a lot. She's visiting our Aunt, though."

"I didn't realize she had any sisters."

"Aunt Minako isn't Mum's sister," Daz said, "She looks like you. Only not. Mum says she's 'mixed,' like we are."

Harva's eyebrows lifted slightly, and she seemed to hesitate, "You wouldn't be speaking of Abe Minako, would you?"

Alec nodded, "Yes, Miss. The singer."

"It is a small world," Harva shook her head with a sad smile. She raised her glass to her lips, sipping the wine the adults were having and pursed her lips over what looked to be a troubling thought.

The rest of the dinner passed quietly. Dessert was fruit with whipped cream, so it wouldn't make Daz too hyper. Alec kept a careful eye on Sorachan; she seemed to get the message about interference and kept her distance. When Daz had wolfed down his bowl, and half of Alec's, Alec forced him to hold still for a face cleaning once again.

Daz wasn't too pleased; he beat at Alec's hands this time and gave an imperious whine. Across the table, Harva covered her smile with one hand. "Your brother takes such good care of you, Daz," she commented with a twinkle in her bright blue eyes.

"He's a turd," Daz pouted and crossed his arms over his chest. Alec rolled his eyes and dropped the napkin back on the table as Daz began to kick his feet at the table. It jumped and vibrated a little with each hit, and the two politicians were startled from their conversation.

Alec reached over to grab his brothers arm and hissed, "Stop that."

"Mum." Daz scowled in return.

Resisting the urge to groan, Alec looked at his grandfather. "Um... Can we be excused? Daz needs to get ready for bed."

"No I don't!" The other boy scrubbed one eye. "I want mum."

Ojiisan watched this a moment before giving a slight nod. Turning, Alec gathered the toddler into his arms as best he could. Holding on to a three-year-old who "dinnit wanna!" was about as difficult as swallowing that octopus. Alec shoved Sorachan's hands away when she touched his shoulder and half-carried, half-drug his brother out of the room along with a few pieces of toddler-clutched cutlery that clattered to the floor in a trail behind them.

By the time that Daz had whined and cried himself to sleep, Alec had a few sore spots dotting his cheek and chest that might end in bruises. He laid beside Daz on their palett and watched his temperamental little brother sleep. Annoyed as he was, he couldn't bring himself to blame the boy; not completely, anyway.

Alec looked up when he heard the wall of their room slide open and saw Sorachan poke her nose in. He glared at her until she left, then put his head back on the pillow and stared at the ceiling.

The noises of the house were different here, too. He could hear the quiet babble of water in the stream and the rustle of leaves from the tree outside. Far, far in the distance, as if belonging to another world entirely, came a hum of traffic. It was hard to remember that they were in a city half a world away from where they belonged.

When he thought what might have been an hour had passed and he was still unable to sleep, Alec stole from the bed as quietly as he could and made his way to the split in the wall. Slipping through the smallest crack he could make of it, he let himself out into the hall and put the wall back into it's place. Most of the lights in this area of the house were off. He paused by a circular window that overlooked the garden and saw his grandfather in an open-walled sitting room, still talking to the ambassador and his wife.

After a moment, Alec turned and continued on his wandering.

Every hall looked the same, to him. Paper screens, potted plants by the windows, accent tables, and the occasional rug. Upon inspection of a section of wall, he began to understand which sections were "doors," and which weren't. Opening one, he found another bedroom with a large pallet already laid out and bedclothes draped across it.

Beyond that, there was nothing in the room but a lamp upon the floor, one of the short-legged tables, and a book with squiggle marks set upon it. Alec closed the wall, and continued down the hall until he found another opening.

This room was a study that bore another pseudo-resemblance to its European kin. A large desk, near the floor, with a pillow for a seat, yes, but bookshelves lined the walls and there was a computer on the desk and a cup of forgotten tea beside it.

After a cautious glance around, Alec stepped into the room and crossed to peer at the books on the shelves. Row after row of squiggle-text greeted him, in every shape and size imaginable. Some were dusty old tomes like the law books his father kept while others were bright and new. They all had the same smell—that wonderful, exotic mixture of leather, dust, and ink that all good libraries had.

He was near the back of the room when he found the first book in English. Pulling it from the shelf, he found that it was a tome of love poems, a collection by many writers, but there was a black ink squiggle on the front that might have been a signature. He thumbed through it, but found nothing save a few dog-eared corners that didn't seem significant, so he put it back. As he did, his fingers touched something cold and metal hidden behind the books.

Alec glanced at the open door of the study, then pulled the book back out and its neighbors with it. Stuck at the back of deep bookcase was a thin picture frame. He frowned as he picked it up and resettled the books into their places.

His mother grinned from behind the protective glass, standing near the edge of a group of girls all decked out in scholar's robes. They were from different schools, that much was apparent, and they were backed by a shrine, not a university... but there was a kinship between them that stood out from the photograph, as easy to read as any book.

He'd seen this photograph before, Alec realized after a moment, sitting in a similar frame in his mother's study. The girls were his aunts, though he'd only met two of them more than once. Aunt Minako hadn't looked to age a bit, he thought with a wry smile, and Aunt Ami wore glasses now, but her smile was the same.

The other two, though... Aunt Makoto would be the one with the rose-bud earrings, he decided, because she always referenced her rose garden the letters she sent them. Aunt Usagi was the other blond. Her letters were hard to read, but Rei had remarked once to their father that Usagi was the "epitome of blond jokes," whatever that meant.

It wasn't improbable for Ojiisan to have pictures of his daughter's graduation, but Alec couldn't help but wonder why it had been stuck behind the books. Had it been an accident? Recalling their attitudes toward one another earlier, he wasn't sure.

Unwilling to put it back where he'd found it, though it would give away that he'd been in the room, Alec found an empty space of shelf and set the picture upon it. After making certain that it wouldn't fall, he slipped from the study and closed the door behind him.

He found the garden several times in his wanderings, but it wasn't until he'd made a full circle of the house (pointedly skipping the den and the bedroom) that he exited onto the porch. Moonlight hung above, brighter now that the sun had gone, but there remained an orange glow of pollution to the west. Unbothered by this, Alec glanced to where the opening for the den should have been, to find that it was done up for the night. The Ambassador and his wife must have left.

Stepping off onto the grass, Alec ventured once again to the pond. It was hard to see the fish at night, but he liked the sound that the water made as it moved. Settling beside it, he dipped his fingers into the stream. A moment later, something scaled and fluid brushed against them, and he yanked his hand back.

"Warrior of much power is nishikigoi," a familiar growl stated from behind him.

Alec looked back to find Ojiisan standing at the edge of the porch. He slipped on a pair of sandals before stepping down into the grass. The suit he'd worn at dinner had been exchanged for a blue robe with short, flared sleeves and matching, high-ankled pants. A closer inspection proved that what Alec had thought was white trimming was a secondary robe beneath the first. Trying not to stare at the strange clothing, Alec turned instead to the problem of warrior fish.

"Warriors?" He dipped his fingers back into the water. Once again a body brushed him, but this time he did not jump.

"Many time ago," Ojiisan explained as he lowered himself gingerly to his knees beside Alec. One withering hand joined his in the water, "In time of ancestor, koi swim Huáng Hé river. Each year, they is try swim up waterfarr to heaven gate."

As he spoke, Ojiisan took his hand from the water and mimed the fish leaping up into the air. "They swim is very fast, strong. The one that reach top is become dragon. Those one that not this do is being catch by man. That one is take to kitchen and look at death rike warrior.

"Very brave," Ojiisan said as he dropped his hand to his knee and stared at the water, "As man is being. Brave, with much honor."

"It's an honour to die?" Alec asked and frowned at his reflection in the now-still pool. In it, he saw his grandfather turn to watch him.

"Honor is fight," he explained in a tone Alec could not identify, "To achieve very great thing. To see danger, be know it. To, at every cost, fight for what is want be true. Nishikigoi is being sign of man."

"Never give up," Alec summarized in a whisper.

"Hai," said Ojiisan. Alec assumed that this meant "yes."


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning saw Alec out of bed when a sleeping Daz kicked him in the stomach. Still rubbing the grit from his eyes, he stumbled his way through the paper corridors until he found the dining room.

Pausing in the doorway, Alec watched as a man dressed in a business suit paraded what looked to be an endless stream of documents in front of his grandfather. Despite their late night, the old man was impeccably dressed and alert. With one hand he used sticks to gather fish and vegetables to eat as, with the other, he signed some of the papers and waved others away. Very little was said between the pair; a word here, a grunt there.

The unknown man was the first to spot Alec. He gave a short, stiff nod and Alec thought that he was about the same age as his father's secretary, Bernice. The way that this man acted seemed to indicate the same sort of relationship, though Bernice would have never stood over his father at breakfast. Alec snickered as he imagined his mothers reaction if the woman ever tried.

It was his laughter which caused Ojiisan's head to rise. The man stared at him a moment, then barked in sparrow-tongue at the kitchen door. A second later, Sorachan came fussing through with a tray of something steaming and set it at the other end of the table. "Good morning, Aleckun," she said through a gritted smile and indicated a chair with a sweep of her hand. "I did not expect you awake so early."

Alec edged toward the table, staring at the items she carefully put before him on the table. As he sat, she laid a curiously large-cupped spoon and a pair of chopsticks before him, then backed away. "I will be in the kitchen if you need me."

"Um, thanks," Alec replied after a second; she was already gone.

There were two bowls and two plates set before him, alongside a glass of milk. One bowl was filled to the brim with a pasty white substance which Alec thought resembled rice, were rice mashed and slimy. The other held a semi-translucent yellow soup with chunks of white and bits of a green, leaf-like substance floating in it. Of the plates, one held some familiar looking items—bits of fish, pickles, two tiny tomatoes, and more of the curious green leaves—along with a strange, tan pasty-substance he could only relate to re-fried beans. The other was the only item which seemed at all appetizing: a plain omelette.

Alec looked up at the two men to find that the secretary was watching him, a smile upon his face. "What?" he asked. Ojiisan, immersed in some document, didn't even look up.

"My apologies," the man bowed again, though it was a mere sketch of the sort he'd seen others give his grandfather, "you seemed confused. Are you familiar with these items?"

"No," Alec shook his head. "We eat mostly cereal at home."

"Ah, yes." The secretary glanced at Ojiisan, who didn't look up or comment, before he moved to Alec's end of the table. "Let's see... This is okayu. It is a pudding made of rice."

"Oh," Alec frowned. Now that it had been pointed out it seemed obvious.

"These," the man said as he pointed to the plate of mixed items, "you can put in the pudding, or eat separately. It is fish, and vegetables, seaweed, and natto."

"Natto?"

"Ah... soy bean," the man replied after a moment's thought. Moving on, he pointed to the omelette, "Tamagoyaki, though you may say 'omelette,' I believe. It is eaten with soy sauce." He reached over to tap a small container that had also been on the table the night before.

"And the soup is called 'miso.' It has tofu and seaweed and onion in it," he finished with a kind smile.

"Thank you," Alec replied, though his stomach turned in some despair. He wondered if he'd ever see real food again. The secretary sketched another bow, almost a nod, and returned to Ojiisan's side just as the older man put aside the paper he'd been reading. As they conversed over it, Alec's gaze returned to the strange meal.

Masking a sigh with a yawn, he reached for the omelette first.

He discovered with no small amount of surprise that as much as he hated octopus for dinner, he liked Japanese breakfasts. Though there was still something odd about so much rice in everything, it seemed to go over well in the morning. By the time that he'd worked his way through the whole of his meal, Ojiisan and the secretary had left and Sorachan and Daz had taken their place. He listened as she gave Daz a lesson in vocabulary with his food, and couldn't help but take a small pleasure at the way the toddler fussed at the lack of Kellog's Frosties.

The rest of the day was spent dodging Sorachan's attempts to teach him Japanese, slumming around the gardens with his mother's strict instruction in mind, and running interference between Daz's occasional tantrum and whatever breakable object was in near proximity. He didn't save an expensive looking vase, but the butler swept aside the pieces without comment.

His name, Alec discovered, was Takihara, and he did not speak any English at all. Neither did the cook, an older woman called Mikasan, but she was plump and cheerful and quite happy to provide the boys with a plain lunch of sandwiches, which they took on the porch outside the kitchen.

Time passed at the lazy pace of summer, and soon, Alec found, they'd fallen into a routine.

By day, Daz was as well behaved as his brother ever knew him to be. After breakfast, he would play games with Sorachan and then watch cartoons he couldn't understand. Alec supervised this, though he thought some of the shows on Japanese TV were a little scary in their craziness, but Daz didn't seem to mind. He laughed and cheered to see men run through the streets in diapers, screaming at pedestrians; Alec watched on with apprehension.

At night, Daz seemed to remember that their mother was gone. After dinner, Alec would shove Sorachan aside and take his brother to bed himself. Every night, after Daz had finally cried himself to sleep, Alec reminded himself that the boy didn't know any better; he had no clue why Rei had left them there, or even why she'd done so alone. It was better that way, too.

That knowledge didn't stop his resentment, but it did curb it enough for him to deal.

Alec ate breakfast with Ojiisan every morning. The secretary's name, he learned, was Onohara. He was the most recent in a long line of "personal assistants" to Ojiisan, all of whom had gone on to be politicians themselves. Unlike Ojiisan, Onohara's English was flawless; "I attended university in Britain," Onohara confided one day, "I was a classmate of your mother's."

Despite this connection to Rei and his homeland, Alec wasn't sure what to make of the man. Onohara seemed nice enough--in the same overly formal way that everyone in the household was "nice."

Then, one morning, Ojiisan and his shadow weren't at breakfast. Alec ate alone, knowledgeable enough by now to request extra natto and no pickles, then left before Daz had even gotten up. A check of the garage found the Rolls Royce parked and the driver no where to be found. Curious, Alec went back inside and began a check of the house.

The dining room was avoided when he heard Daz's familiar morning recitation of Japanese foods, utensils, and whatever else it was that he now boasted vocabulary for. Alec rolled his eyes and slipped past the door when Sorachan was too busy to notice him.

He went past the empty study, and sitting room, and found himself in the garden. Everything was still and quiet in the morning light, but one room on the far side of the enclosure had its wall cracked open. Alec slipped, barefoot and silent, through the grass and back onto the porch. Crouching, he peeked through the crack in the door and his eyes widened at the flash of steel from inside.

Clothed in the same dark-blue robes Alec had seen him wear that first night in the garden, Ojiisan moved around the empty room with a grace that belied his ogre-like build and age. In his hands, a long curved sword flashed in the light as it arched through the air, sliced, stabbed, and cut invisible opponents. Not a sound was made, beyond the rustle of fabric and the gentle thump of his grandfather's footfalls.

Alec had never seen a real swordsman; he hadn't thought they'd still existed.

The frame of the door shifted gradually under his hand. Caught up in the dance, Alec didn't notice until it gave away and sent him sprawling onto the bamboo-wood floor. A second later he scrambled to his feet, red in the face, just in time to watch his grandfather slide the sword into the scabbard attached with a cloth to his waist.

"Um," Alec said as he tugged at the ends of his shirt, "Good morning, Ojiisan."

Ojiisan bowed slightly and said in his flat, hollow accent, "Good morning."

Alec glanced at the door, still standing open to the morning air, and then back at Ojiisan, who hadn't moved. He fought to keep his hands straight at his side. "What were you doing?"

It seemed for a moment that Ojiisan wouldn't answer. He looked down at the sword stashed in his sash and lifted one hand to caress the wrapped hilt. Then, he took the whole thing—scabbard and all—from the sash and held it in front of him for Alec to see.

The wrapping at the hilt was black silk. Alec knew the fabric from some of his mother's dresses, and, after a second's hesitation, he dared to reach out and touch it. It was still warm from his grandfather's hand, but the metal that stopped it at the scabbard was cold.

When Alec had taken his hand away, Ojiisan slid the sword free a few inches from it's scabbard so that he could see the mirror-fine polish on the blade.

"Katana," said Ojiisan. "Very sharp. Very ord. Take life many man."

Alec wet his lips and frowned as he gave the blade another look over. Ojiisan slid the blade home and put it back into his sash. How that held the blade, Alec didn't know, but he couldn't deny that it worked. "Katana," he repeated, "Like... so you're a ninja?"

The old man winced and waved one hand as though brushing off a fly. "Ninja desu ka? Iie," the man growled at himself and shook his head. Looking back to Alec, his expression softened just a little, and he gestured to the door. His other hand went to the boy's shoulder, pressing just enough to indicate that Alec should follow him.

They left the room together and ventured around the garden, keeping to the porch. Alec noticed that Ojiisan was barefoot—everyone was, when they were in the house, though it continued to surprise him. When they reached the wall-door for the sitting room, his grandfather opened it and lead him inside.

The back of the room was one of the few solid walls in the compound; Alec had noticed before that there seemed to be cabinets built into it, but he hadn't spent enough time in the room to investigate.

As Ojiisan guided him to a halt in front of it, Alec managed to get a good look at it. Tall dark wood panels stretching from ceiling to floor. the base was like a pyramid, with shallow steps up to the trunk of the cabinets—from here, Alec could see that it was not actually a part of the wall, but a hutch build against it.

Ojiisan reached for a sliding bolt placed in the middle of the cabinets and in a practiced movement had the case unlocked. the panels of the front swung open as one, folding back on one another to reveal a vast, single chamber filled with pictures and paintings, carvings and candles, and small wooden items the purpose of which he couldn't imagine.

He'd seen this setup before, he realized, though the faces in the pictures were different. All but one...

"Obachan," Alec said and began to reach for the simple wooden frame. He stopped, almost to touching it, as he realized what he was doing. A gesture from Ojiisan spurred him on, and he picked the picture off the shelf.

Alec had thought he'd seen all the pictures that existed of his grandmother, but this one was new. She was wearing a red-silk robe, similar to the blue one that Ojiisan wore, but much more complex; it boasted golden and white flowers, beautiful and budding, down it's sleeves and toward her feet, and was tied with a black and gold sash. Her hair, loose and as long as his mother's, blew lightly in the wind beneath a fully-blossomed cherry tree.

She was smiling, young and happy; laughing at the person behind the camera.

"Ee. Ayame," Ojiisan whispered. Alec looked up to find the man staring at the picture in he was holding.

After a moment, the man shook his head and gestured back to the cabinet. "Hotokesama. Ancestor..." Ojiisan flapped his fingers at the cabinet to indicate it. "Where from is we being come."

Alec nodded and replaced the picture of his grandmother on the shelf. "Yeah, Sofu has one at home. It's a lot smaller, though." That was an understatement, he thought, imagining the tiny cabinet that sat in the corner of his great-grandfather's sitting room.

"Sofu ka?" Ojiisan frowned at him.

"Um. My..." Alec's eyebrows scrunched together as he tried to remember what Rei had said in the car. "Sooo... sou... Obachan's father."

Ojiisan grunted and looked back at the pictures. For a long moment the man was silent and Alec fidgeted under the thought that he'd offended him. Then Ojiisan sighed and scrubbed a hand over his balding head.

Casting another long look at his grandson, the man touched the hilt of his katana once again and with his other hand gestured to one of the older paintings. "Katana be giving to every first son, first son. Is come from time when ancestor is being powerful samurai. Warrior."

"I thought ninjas were warriors," Alec mused.

Ojiisan shook his head. "Ninja no warrior. Ninja is... is... bah!" Throwing his hands up, Ojiisan stomped one foot uselessly against the floor and scowled at the altar. Alec backed off a step, fingers twisted into the tail of his shirt. His movement got a look from Ojiisan, who seemed to wilt a little. "Word is not have," the man said after a time, and then took himself from the room with a weary sigh.

Left behind, Alec stared at the picture of his grandmother. He couldn't help but wonder that she looked so happy there, when, in every other photo he'd seen, she'd always seemed sad.

He didn't see his grandfather again that morning, and by the afternoon the Rolls Royce was gone. At lunch, Sorachan corralled him into the kitchen with Daz, where Mikasan fried corn-dogs for them. As surprised as he was, and very aware of Mikasan's apparent distaste for the food, Alec ate hungrily. He didn't even care that it was an American foodstuff—it was still closer to home than this place.

After Daz had been cleaned up, Sorachan announced that they were going to take a walk in the park. Excited by the prospect of getting out of the compound, Alec helped to get his brother's shoes on and ignored the vocabulary lesson it came with.

With Daz between them, holding on to one of their hands each, the trio exited the gate by way of the buzzer and walked down the walled-in street. It was a warm, early summer day, and the blue sky above was broken only by the piercing towers of Tokyo proper. Days had passed since they'd last laid eyes on the streets, but Alec remembered that they'd only been a few blocks away from the park, across a great boulevard.

A handful of triangular stop signs later and he was proven right. The boulevard was swollen with traffic, but Sorachan lead them to a lighted crosswalk where they waited their turn. Stopped there in a crowd of dark-haired strangers, Alec couldn't help but notice the crowd putting space between themselves and the trio. Men in business suits and women with cell phones cut quick glances at Daz, their faces betraying disapproval.

Alec's hand tightened around his brother's enough that the boy complained; he apologized quickly and let go.

The light turned on the other side of the walk, and Sorachan lead them across it. Alec lagged behind a little now, and when they reached the other side he kept a few paces behind the pair. Daz was oblivious to people around him, chattering a pigeon-hole smashup of English and Japanese. Sorachan nodded as if she understood, but Alec expected that, like all adults, she wasn't really listening.

Even while walking, the other pedestrians seemed to go out of their way to put distance between themselves and Daz, yet they had little problem bumping into Alec on their way past. A few murmured what sounded like sparrow-talk apologies at him, but none seemed to care that he was there. Alec couldn't understand why until a little girl about Daz's age passed them at the gates to the park.

When she saw him, her eyes went wide as saucers, and she stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk. "Kawaii de," the girl cooed, one hand reaching for Daz's shoulder. He saw her, then, and forced Sorachan to stop as he eyed the girl petting his curls.

"Mikachan," the girl's mother scolded. She rattled off something too quick for Alec to hope of deciphering, and the girl's hand dropped to her side. Daz seemed to recover from his shock and, to everyone's horror and amusement, grabbed the girls hand and kissed it as he bowed. Alec could only assume it was behavior learned from one too many King Arthur movies.

"Daz desu. Haggy-me-mushy-tea!"

The girl squealed and hid her face in in her mother's skirt, giggling, "Dame! Dame!"

Despite this, Daz seemed pleased with himself. Alec's lips twitched a little as he looked at some of the passersbys who had stopped to stare; a few were hiding smiles of their own, and the space around them had seemed to shrink somewhat.

The girl's mother, laughing a little, urged her daughter away from her skirt with sparrow twitters. Gradually, Mikachan turned and gave a slight bow to Daz. "Mika desu," she whispered and then ran and hid behind her mother, though she peeked around to look at Daz.

Sorachan's grip stopped him from going after her. The two women exchanged some words, both fighting laughter, and then the woman lead Mikachan away. "So-rah-ja!" Daz shouted behind them, waving madly. Little Mikachan turned, slightly, to wave as well, a blush and smile painted across her face.

Alec watched this all from the sidelines, feeling as much a stranger as he looked. At Sorachan's glance he approached the pair so that they could move further into the park, all the while wishing that he'd stayed at the compound.

Daz reached for his hand, and he took it. Sorachan smiled at him, leading the pair through the tree-lined path toward a fountain square. "Do you know what 'hajimemashite' means, Aleckun?"

"Alec," he replied, frowning, "Why can't you pronounce that right?"

"kun," Sorachan explained without skipping a beat, "Is noun suffix. It is polite to add such things to people's names. I would be honoured to drop it, if you wish."

"Honoured?" Alec snickered faintly.

"Yes. Here, we only drop the noun suffix if we are very close to someone. To do so with a stranger is rude."

They passed the fountain as Alec considered this. It was a good thing that they both had a hand on Daz, because one sight of the water jets had the boy wanting to go splash in them. Sorachan promised to take them swimming later that week, and that got them away from the water and toward the playground.

"Keep the 'kun'," Alec said as they reached the first of the rainbow coloured plastic jungle gyms. They each let go of Daz, and the toddler flew toward the monkey bars. In a matter of moments, he was playing amongst other bright-eyed kids as though he were back in London.

"As you wish," Sorachan replied. Looking up, Alec noticed the tightness of her mouth, and he gave a mental sigh. "Don't you want to play, Aleckun?"

There weren't any kids his age on the playground, and he didn't want to go play with the toddlers. He kicked lightly at the grass with one sneaker. "Nah."

"Mm." She touched his shoulder and then gestured to a nearby bench. "Come sit with me, if you want."

He didn't, but he followed her anyway and sat on the other end of the bench. They watched Daz play for a while—Alec didn't know how long it was, but it felt like forever. When he began to shift in his seat, he looked back at Sorachan, who seemed content to sit. "Why do you speak English so well?"

The woman jumped a little at the sound of his voice, and Alec smirked. She glanced at him, then. "Why or how?"

Rocking from side to side, Alec shrugged. "Doesn't matter. Both?"

"I'm a linguist and translator," Sorachan replied after a moment. "I speak four languages fluently, including my native Japanese."

"Yeah, but... why?"

"I like languages. They are my talent... It's like art to me, I suppose." Sorachan smiled at him. "That is not what you're asking, though, is it?"

Alec pursed his lips as he thought about that. On the playground, Daz was letting a group of girls giggle over his blond curls, and thoroughly enjoying the attention. In return, they let him play with their sand pails. It really was just like in London; Daz had always gotten along better with the little girls than boys.

Content that Daz was safe on the playground; Alec leaned back on the bench and looked up into the trees above them. There were birds up in the branches, twittering away between the leaves. He envied them their wings. "You're not a nanny," he stated, finally, "You're a... what did you call it? Linguist. That means you work with languages."

"You're a very smart boy."

Alec shrugged. "Mr. Frankfort says so."

"Mr. Frankfort?"

"My tutor." Alec flopped his head to one side to look at her and found her already watching him. "You act a lot like him, with Daz."

"You are privately taught," Sorachan mused as she turned her attention back to the playground.

"Dad says until secondary."

Sorachan's hands folded in her lap as she fell silent. For a long moment he continued to look her over, wondering what it was she thought. An unnerving tingle ran down his spine as he realized how similar her expressions were to Rei's. They weren't that different in mannerisms; the thought made his stomach turn.

"You disapprove of his learning," Sorachan finally stated.

"If Mum wanted us to learn Japanese, she would've taught us herself."

"I'm sorry that you feel that way," she replied softly. Alec snorted derisively and got up. She didn't call him back when he walked away, and he didn't stop at the playground.

An hour later, Alec was still walking. The park was huge and filled with kids; most of them, he was surprised to note, didn't seem to have a parent with them. Five-year-olds in bright yellow hats ran in packs without supervision; the boys wild and unreserved, and the girls giggling over dolls. It was like a kid's paradise, a real life Neverland. The thought made him laugh in spite of himself, and he stopped when he came to a clear space of grass where some boys were kicking around a football.

They seemed to be around his age, and none of them were wearing a uniform. He fidgeted on the sidelines, watching as one tried to bounce the ball off his knee a few times before giving up and kicking it across the field. Another boy in a red shirt, better than the rest, met the ball with the flat of his head, sending it careening toward an impromptu goal marked by red tape around two trees. Another kid in grass-stained shorts tried to stop it, but it slipped through his upraised fingers.

Several of the boys began to whoop as the goalie went into the trees to retrieve the ball.

Alec watched them for a few minutes; the Red Shirt's team sorely outmatched the other, he thought, and Red Shirt was obviously aware of that. Whenever he scored, he pranced around the field with a cocky grin on his face, punching the arms of his teammates and sneering playfully at the opposing faction.

One of the boys on the losing team was growing more agitated by the minute. Though Alec couldn't understand the words he exchanged with Red Shirt, they sounded less and less friendly. Finally, Angry Boy snapped and threw the ball at Red Shirt, who caught it. He went storming off to cat calls, pushing past Alec with enough force to send Alec stumbling aside.

Alec stared at the boy's back a moment, then turned to find the other boys watching him. Red Shirt, still grinning, came forward. "Asobou!" he called, bouncing the ball in his hands and jerked his chin at Alec. "Asobou."

"I, uh..." He glanced about at their expectant faces, and then took a few steps forward, lifting his hands helplessly. "I'm not sure what you're saying."

As a unit, the boys stared at him. Then, one began to snicker. They ribbed one another and shoved to the front a kid in a green jersey. "Pray," he said and extended one hand, before gesturing it back toward the group. "Sokkah. Withu usu pray."

At that, Red Shirt tossed the ball at Alec.

A smirk drew itself across Alec's lips and he bounced the ball off his forehead, onto one knee, and then to the ground, where he caught it with a sneaker. He didn't have boots... but did it matter? The boys returned his grin, and he kicked open the new game.

They had to stop when the sun went down. The lamps in the park weren't strong enough to illuminate the field, and the group of boys began to break up. Red Shirt and Green Jersey were headed in the same direction as Alec, and the three fell into step together.

Red Shirt and Green Jersey chattered at each other with him in the middle, and for once Alec didn't mind the sparrow talk. Without his relatives around, it was actually kind of fun to be clueless. Returned was that feeling of adventure at being stuck in a faraway place. They walked unmolested through the dark, and soon came up to the gate he remembered from that morning. Beyond it was the familiar, tree-lined boulevard and, Alec knew, the residential compounds behind it.

Red Shirt stopped him when they reached the side walk, and chittered something at Green Jersey. Green Jersey gave a nod, then turned his attention to Alec. "Yu tomorowo comu pray?"

Alec nodded when he had deciphered the question and brushed a curl from his vision. After a second's thought, he dared to add "Hai. Asobou."

The boys snickered at him and nodded. Red Shirt slapped Green Jersey's arm, and then waved to him, shouting "soreja" as they headed off down the street in the opposite direction he needed to go. Left alone, Alec turned to look at the corner block he'd crossed earlier that day with Sorachan.

The street still had people on it, though fewer than there had been earlier, and none of them seemed to pay him any mind. Alec stuffed his hands in his jean pockets and shuffled down the street.

In the crowd at the crosswalk, Alec was not stared at or treated with distaste. His fellow pedestrians had little qualms including him in the press. When the light changed, the bodies around him urged him forward across the street.

He managed to disengage himself from the crowd in order to turn down the right street. The stream of people headed off down the main boulevard as Alec ducked, alone, onto the street that would take him home. His footsteps echoed a little on the dark, empty street the further he got from the main boulevard.

Ignoring the prickle of doubt at the back of his mind, he retraced his steps back to his grandfather's compound with little hesitation. When he saw the now-familiar gate, he breathed out a slight sigh of relief and jogged up to it. The gate didn't budge when he touched it, so he pressed the intercom. After a moment, someone barked at him in Japanese.

"Um.. It's Alec," he replied after a hesitation.

"Alec?" The voice asked. There was a pause and then the buzzer sounded. "Welcome home," said the intercom as one side of the gate swung open. Alec slipped through it and paused to watch it shut itself. When he turned back to the house, he saw Sorachan standing on the porch.

Ducking his head a little, Alec took his time crossing the tiny bridge over the stream and mounting the steps to the front door.

"Hi," he mumbled as he came to a halt in front of her.

"Good evening," she replied. For a moment he thought that would be the end of it, then she clasped her hands behind her. "I was about to go look for you. I was very worried, Aleckun."

"It was just a park," Alec grumbled as he scuffed his shoe against the porch.

"Yes. And I have no problem with your playing there by yourself. But please, understand that I am responsible for you."

Alec looked up at the woman and bit his bottom lip. "I don't need a nanny," he protested.

Sorachan sunk into a crouch and put her elbows on her knees. "No," she replied after a moment, "I don't think you do. Perhaps, though, you and I could be friends."

He stuffed his hands into his back pockets and shrugged. Head dipping a bit, his curls spilled forward to obscure most of his vision. "What does 'asobou' mean, exactly?"

If she was surprised, Sorachan didn't show it. "It is... it depends on how it's used. Mostly it means 'let's play' or 'i will play.'"

Alec nodded a little. He grabbed the doorknob and twisted it, ducking inside before she could pry. In the foyer he left his shoes beside Daz's, then headed inside. A quick search of the house found his grandfather in the study, and Alec knocked against the paper-wall's frame before he took a careful step inside.

Ojiisan and Onohara lifted their heads as one from the papers they'd been going over. Alec swallowed thickly, once again playing with the tail of his shirt as he wet his lips. Eventually, Ojiisan's thick eyebrows rose slightly toward his non-existent hairline. "Nan desu ka?"

Onohara smiled slightly at Alec and, hidden from Ojiisan by the desk between them, made a 'come on' gesture with one hand. Taking a little heart from that, Alec managed to tumble out, "There's some kids in the park... uh.. they... they want—can I go back and play with them tomorrow? Without Sorachan."

His grandfather stared at him, face blank until Onohara leaned in and murmured something to him in their sparrow language. Ojiisan jerked his head in a short nod and waved one hand and Alec. With his attention returned to the paper in front of him, he replied, "Hai! ii yo!"

Onohara turned back to look at Alec, a smile drawn across his bird-like face. He nodded, and gave Alec a wink as he mouthed "that's fine."

Alec remained in the doorway another moment as the two men returned to work, completely heedless of the boy in the room. He grabbed his shirt tail, twisting it into his fingers a little. "Thank you," he muttered, finally, and trotted out the door.

The next morning, Alec donned the worst set of shirt and pants his mother had let him pack, grabbed a tie for his hair, and ate breakfast in a rush. As usual, Onohara and Ojiisan were working at the other end, as though they hadn't even slept that night, but before Alec could run from the room when he was finished, Ojiisan stopped him with a word.

Stalling in his work for one moment, Ojiisan turned and drew a wallet from his coat pocket. Alec shifted from foot to foot in front of him as the man counted out a few multi-coloured notes. He handed them over to Alec, who took them and stared for a second. "Er.. um... thank you, Ojiisan."

Ojiisan bowed slightly and smiled slightly before he turned back to his work. "Be have fun."

After finding a secure pocket for the money, Alec got his shoes from the foyer and headed out to the park.

He'd thought he'd have to wait around awhile for the others to show up, but to his surprise he found a few of them already waiting. They kicked the ball around in a rough, un-regulated game as the others straggled in. Though Alec couldn't speak their language, the boys knew enough English between the lot of them that they could garble out whatever body language couldn't relay.

At lunch, he went with them to get a 'lunch' from a corner store where Green Jersey, who introduced himself as Tanaka, helped him to pay to the right amount for a little box of pre-made sushi and rice. They laughed at him when he couldn't use chopsticks, but he didn't care and ate with his hands, anyway.

Red Shirt was called Saito, and it became obvious over the day that the whole group looked to him as a sort of 'leader.' He was the loudest of the lot, and seemed to be the one who had the final say in anything. Alec wasn't sure of why; Saito was a bit of a twig compared to some of the others, and he didn't seem to be the oldest of them, either. Nevertheless, the impression was a strong one and Alec found himself drawn into the dynamic without much fuss.

By the time that the sun set that evening, Alec was beginning to feel more at home. Tanaka and Saito walked with him again as they headed back that evening. At the gate, Tanaka stopped him with a friendly punch to his shoulder. "Tomorowo, gogo goji. Yeah?"

Alec recited the words to himself a few times before he nodded, "Yeah, hai." Saito hit his shoulder as well, with a grin, and the two boys left, presumably to return home. Rubbing his arm, Alec shook his head and turned for home.

He found Sorachan helping Daz with a picture book in the den, and waited at the door for her attention. Daz was looking happy as ever, Alec noted, squealing over the finger puppets in thick-paged book. Little kittens, he thought, vaguely remembering something similar from when he was younger. The phone rang before Sorachan finished. She apologized to Daz as she leaned over to take the reciever off the cradle.

A short conversation later, she pressed a button on the call and gestured for Alec. "It's for you."

Alec's stomach turned a little as he took the phone, found the 'hold' button and pressed it. "Alec speaking."

"Hello," Rei replied through the speaker. Alec smiled to himself and took the cordless receiver across the room to sit in an a pillow near the sliding door. "How are you and Daz doing there?"

"We're..." Alec looked up at his brother, who was still being read to with notable delight. He seemed oblivious to the call his brother was on. "We're fine. How's Aunt Minako?"

"She's well. She sends her love." Rei hesitated on the other end, before asking, "You're getting along with your grandfather?"

Making a face at that, Alec shrugged before he realized she couldn't see it. "Yeah."

"You're sure about that?"

As he shifted, the loose money in his pocket crinkled and Alec winced a little. He bit his bottom lip and nodded, "Yeah. He's busy, but he's nice. Mr. Warren came over with his wife, and he showed me his sword."

"Mr. Warren..." Rei mused.

"The ambassador? He's friends with... with dad."

"Ah." Alec frowned at his mother's tone—it was just a single note, but it made his stomach churn. "I didn't realize Mr. Warren collected weaponry."

"No, I mean Ojiisan's sword. There's this old family katana, like a sami... samu... ninja has."

"Samurai," Rei corrected, "You didn't call him a ninja, did you, Alec?"

"Well... yeah, sorta. He seemed kinda... What's so funny?"

"Nothing." Still fighting laughter, Rei cleared her throat in an attempt to calm herself. "Nothing at all, Alec. You just... you just keep on calling him that."

"He didn't seem to like it."

"Oh, that's just an act. There's nothing wrong with being a ninja, and don't let him tell you otherwise."

Alec frowned a little. "M—" He paused, glancing at his brother, then edited out her title, "Um... Ojiisan is... there's this..."

"Yes?"

"Why didn't you teach us Japanese?"

The question must have been a surprise, because the other end of the line went silent so long that he thought she'd hung up. Before he could ask, she responded slowly, "Is that something you'd want to learn?"

"I... maybe? I guess. It'd be good to know." He drew his knees up to his chest, well aware that Sorachan was watching him, now.

"Your grandfather wants you to learn, doesn't he?"

"No," Alec lied.

"Alec."

"He got this teacher..." Alec began. On the other end of the line, Rei let out a string of Japanese—he didn't need to know the language to understand her tone. One hand curled a fist into the pillow he was sitting on as he glowered at his knees.

"Stop it," Alec cut her off before she could switch languages. "Just stop!"

"Wha—"

"I'm sick of it! You always do that. If you want to say something, say it! Stop trying to hide everything."

"Alec, you have no idea—"

"That you and dad fight?" Alec broke in again. Silence rang on the other end of the line as loudly as a siren. When she didn't seem inclined to answer, Alec continued on. "Just because I don't know the words, that doesn't mean I don't know what's going on. You're treating me like a kid."

"What do you think is going on, Alec?"

Alec stared down at his knees. He sniffed miserably and wrapped an arm around his knees. "When are you coming back?"

After a long moment, Rei answered, "Not for awhile. I'll be on a plane to London tomorrow... your father and I need to talk, okay? But we're not going to do anything without talking to you. I promise."

"Okay."

"Where's Daz?"

Alec looked up to find himself in an empty room. The book Sorachan had been reading was on the coffee table, and the door had been closed. "In bed, I think. The nanny was reading him a book."

"Oh," Rei sighed. "I'll call again when I land. And we'll discuss this soon, okay?"

"'kay," he muttered. After exchanging "good night"s, Alec hung the receiver back on its hook and scrubbed his wrist against his cheek. He grabbed the book on his way out the door and back to the bedroom.

As he'd guessed, Sorachan was putting Daz down. From his brothers unperturbed, sleepy expression, Alec judged that she'd fled with the toddler before he'd heard too much. He watched, silent, as Sorachan pulled the covers up to Daz's shoulders and gave his hair a fond pat. When she moved to the door, he stepped aside and waited until she'd shut the door behind her.

"What does 'gogo goji' mean?" Alec asked, then had to clear his throat.

Sorachan offered a tiny smile. "Five in the afternoon. Your friends want you to meet them?" When Alec nodded, she smiled a little more. "Alright. We'll plan on that."

"Thanks," Alec replied. They stared at one another for a moment, before Alec backed away and then turned to head for the bath.


End file.
